


nothing but time that's wasted

by hollow_city



Series: shadows of the past (can be felt by the present) [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender, Batman (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bending (Avatar), Brotherly Bonding, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Torture, mild though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 08:11:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13700433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollow_city/pseuds/hollow_city
Summary: when dick was a kid, he had no idea what bending was. what being a bender meant. all he knew was that he and his parents were born to fly.or, dick knows what it's like to be a bender in a world built to work against them, and he knows that damian could certainly use some help.





	nothing but time that's wasted

**Author's Note:**

> i had no plans of continuing here, but then the part that preceded this got waaay more attention than i anticipated, and people actually wanted more, and i was like "yes, okay, i will skip doing my actual classwork and write this instead. what a great idea."  
> title's from in the mourning by paramore.

-

When Dick was a kid, he had no idea what bending was. What being a bender meant. All he knew was that he and his parents were born to fly. His parents didn’t tell him what he was until he was seven.

They explained to him that Zari, the girl with the sunset hair and sharp green eyes, was a firebender, and she really was breathing fire. They told him about Viktor, the man with the huge muscles and the hard face and kind eyes, who could lift massive rocks above his head because he was an earthbender. They told him about Daisy, the quiet girl from Australia who was the youngest next to Dick, who could patch them all up so well because she was a waterbender, and a healer.

Dick was enthralled. He was ecstatic. He nearly couldn’t believe it. It all sounded so amazing, but his parents weren’t done.

They explained why they held off on telling him for so long. They explained about the Avatar and the persecution of benders all around the world. Dick didn’t want to believe. He didn’t want to believe that he would be arrested and sent to prison without a trial if he were to bend in public.

“Why haven’t we been arrested?” Dick asked, his blue eyes wide and fearful.

His mother held him close and told him that they’ve tried. They have tried to tear the circus apart, to pin them with bending and send them away forever. But they never could. Haly’s was a family, and they looked after each other. Not everybody was a bender, not even Haly himself, but they all shared the same sentiment. Benders would be protected.

Every act could be explained, like Zari breathing fire or Viktor lifting rocks, by something other than bending. And so, they were never caught.

Dick asked about the Avatar, about what happened to them. His parents had only mentioned them in passing and explained their abilities, but that had been all.

His father says that it’s a story for another time.

Well, there is never _another time_ , because not two months later, his parents fall all the way to the hard ground and are gone forever.

When they’re gone and he’s tucked against Haly’s side, his hands shaking and his face flushed, he asks the question that’s been burning at his mind since he watched them fall.

“Why didn’t they save themselves? They could’ve,” he asks, his voice cracking and breaking as he desperately grasps for anything at all. He wants to hug his mom, wants to feel his dad’s hand ruffling his hair, but he won’t. He can’t. They’re gone.

Haly sighs, squeezing Dick’s shoulder.

“They knew they couldn’t, kid,” he says, his voice rough with emotion and quiet enough to keep the words between them. “They knew what would happen if they did.”

And Dick understands, but he wishes he didn’t have to.

-

When Bruce takes him in, Dick hides within himself, keeping his airbending private. He waits until Bruce leaves for the night (Bruce doesn’t tell him, but Dick knows. He’s young, not stupid.) to even think of practicing in his room.

He doesn’t do much, but he floats off the floor until he reaches the ceiling, and then floats back. He practices the air scooter his dad learned from an old friend and then passed to him. He drags things through the air into his hand when he doesn’t feel like getting up. He sits with his legs crossed beneath him, balanced on his headboard while he meditates.

He takes everything his parents taught him in stride. They taught him to control his air, to meditate, to conduct himself more gracefully than any other person could ever hope to.

He’s careful enough until he’s nine years old, when he finds out that Bruce is Batman, and finds out that he can bring his parents’ killer to justice. He can bring them to justice and avenge his parents.

They bring Zucco down, and then Bruce questions him.

“You’re an airbender,” he says, his voice as flat as his expression.

Dick grimaces, but then a fire lights beneath his Robin emblem on his chest, and he squares his shoulders and spreads his feet.

“So what if I am?" he glares up at Bruce, clenching his fists at his sides. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Bruce stares at him for a minute, before his lips twitch, and he smiles.

“Dick, I’m not going to do anything. You’re an airbender, and that is fine,” he says, his voice gentler than it’s ever been. Maybe, Dick thinks, he understands the reality of the situation.

“What?” he asks anyway, confused. He’s heard what Bruce thinks about metahumans in his city, so why would he be okay with benders? Especially one living in his own house? “You don’t… hate me?”

Why doesn’t Bruce hate him?

His guardian looks almost crestfallen. “Of course not! Dick, of course not. I don’t think of you any differently.”

Dick shrinks a little from his faux-imposing presence, crossing his arms over his stomach.

“But, but I’m an airbender, a-and the world hates us…” he trails off, his voice tiny and so sad.

Bruce kneels down to bring himself to Dick’s height, resting his hand on the airbender’s shoulder.

“I could never hate you, chum. I’m not like the rest of the world. Not everybody is.”

And it’s a concept that Dick’s never considered before, but a concept he’d like to think actually exists.

Bruce hugs him for the first time, and the chilled air in the manor stills and the tension between them eases. It’s easier now.

Bruce incorporates airbending training into Robin’s training regimen, and Dick couldn’t be happier. Airbending in the cave is one of the best things he’s ever done. He's still careful while he's out on patrol, and he's never obvious about it.

Not a single person ever accuses Robin of being an airbender. 

-

It’s not until years later, when Damian comes along, that he really has to consider himself.

Jason and Tim weren't too hard to deal with when it came to bending, because Jason wasn't a bender but certainly supported them, and Tim was an earthbender.

But Damian. Damian is not the same as either of them, at all.

Of course, Damian’s a firebender, so he wouldn’t be, but he has next to nothing in common with either brother, which leaves Dick in the dark. He’s an airbender, not a firebender, so he doesn’t know how to help Damian. Especially with how afraid Damian is, how unsure he is.

It doesn’t come to a head until one day when they’re out on patrol together, as Batman and Robin.

Dick knows that Damian knows not to firebend while they’re on patrol. Unless it is absolutely necessary, unless it is a life or death situation, they are never to bend while on patrol.

This is not a life or death situation. Well, probably. It might be.

Somehow, they managed to capture both of them. They were highly outnumbered, overpowered, and caught off guard. Dick knows it’s his fault because he’s been distracted as of late. He’s been thinking about bending far too much, especially Damian’s.

He’s going to blame that for their current predicament. He’s been distracted, so now he’s strung up with nothing but the cowl and the bare suit. They took his belt, they took his gauntlets, they took anything that isn’t fingerprint protected and secure. So his identity is safe and his secret is safe, but he’s still in a bit of a bind. Literally. 

Also, he can’t see Damian. He can’t hear him, and he can’t tell where he is, and his heart is racing. He needs to get to Damian, get to his Robin, and make sure he’s safe and unharmed. He may never be able to look him in the eye again if he’s hurt because of Dick’s misstep.

“Ah, so we’ve finally caught the Bat,” a nasally voice says from the doorway. Dick lifts his head, meets the eyes of the slimy looking criminal, refuses to give him the pleasure of knowing how his shoulders are burning. “You’re worse than I expected if I’m being honest.”

Dick remains silent.

“So, I’ve got a few questions for you, and I’ll tell you right now, if you’re not feeling like talkin’ I got a little helper right here who’ll give ya plenty of reason to,” he says, before holding up a stick. He presses the button on the side, and the tip crackles and lights up with electricity.

“I’m terrified,” Dick deadpans, his voice as gravelly as always. “I suggest you tell me where you’ve taken Robin before I get out of these and use your head as a soccer ball.”

The man laughs.

“Please, Bats, you can’t get out of that. I had someone meld those shut. The only way you’re gettin’ outta there is without your hands,” he says, his eyes sparkling. “Can’t say I wouldn’t love to see ya try.”

Dick takes a moment, considering his options. It’s only been a few seconds of tense silence, only interrupted by the water flowing by beneath the grated floor under the toes of his boots, before an angered scream echoes from down the hall.

Dick’s entire body stiffens and his hands tighten in their position against the thick, metal cuffs.

The man’s face lights up. “Ah! The brat’s awake! Good! Just you wait, pal, they’ll be bringing him in here any second.”

The airbender’s teeth bare in a snarl as he gives an experimental pull on his binds. The man was right; there is no way for him to get out of here on his own. If he were to use his airbending he might stand a chance, but even then, air can’t melt or bend away metal. Not like this.

“Lay a finger on him and I’ll break every bone in your body,” Dick growls, more than a hint of malice in his voice. He’s not usually this dark, but this is different, because they have Damian, and they’re going to hurt him.

The sound of struggling against chains stops after a few more moments and Dick falls still. There’s no sound for several seconds, before a sudden, ragged shout of anger bounces off the metal walls, accompanied by a rush of what can only be fire. And Dick really hopes it isn’t, because he knows Damian would never use them unless he absolutely _had_ to. He wants to hope the situation isn't that dire. 

The fighting continues, but it becomes background noise when the man rushes to Dick’s side, seeming to realize that his time is now limited.

“You’ll answer my questions now, or I’ll kill the kid,” he says, his eyes wild. Dick’s fury only escalates. “Who are you?”

And maybe he should’ve expected that question. It’s always the one they go for first.

“I’m Batman,” Dick growls, smiling a sharp and none-too-pleasant smile.

The man makes a frustrated noise before he jabs the stick into Dick’s side. The electricity courses through him and his muscles jerk and contract painfully, but he doesn’t say anything. The suit blocks some of it, but he still feels it. The man doesn’t seem content with this.

He switches hands and angrily stabs it into his ribs. He presses the button again, and this time Dick feels it. He _really_ feels it. But he doesn’t make a sound.

“Who is Robin?” he asks, slamming the stick back into the same spot, upping the setting once more.

Dick doesn’t say a word, doesn’t make a sound, gritting his teeth against the urge to scream. His whole body burns and his muscles ache, but he holds himself up, refusing to break eye contact.

“Who. Are. You?!” the man is shouting over the sound of fighting down the hall.

He pulls the stick back and turns the setting as high as it can go, and jams it into his stomach.

Dick can’t help it anymore. He screams. He knows screaming won’t make it hurt less, he knows it won’t do anything for him, but he can’t hold it in anymore. He screams and he thrashes, but it doesn’t do anything.

“You get your slimy paws off of him!” a voice shouts, shaking with pure fury. On the last word, a plume of flames explodes against the man’s back.

Dick can see just over the man’s shoulder, and he watches as the flames burst from Damian’s mouth.

The man spins, shrieking with fear and pain as his jacket burns. Damian punches and kicks and swipes, each movement sending a blast of scathing flames. He takes the man down with a well-placed kick to the side of the head with a burning boot.

“Batman!” Damian calls out the second the man’s eyes close. “I’m sorry.”

At first, Dick doesn’t know what Damian is apologizing for, but then the boy is standing on his toes and melting the metal holding him in place. The malleable metal burns his exposed skin, and he gasps quietly, his eyes widening against the white-hot pain. He holds in the noise he wants to make in favor of making Damian feel better about burning him.

As soon as his wrists are freed, his legs fold beneath him because he just can’t hold himself up anymore. His limbs feel like jelly, and he can only manage to bring himself to one knee before he slumps forward over it.

Damian follows him to the ground, and he ducks under his arm, looping it over his shoulders. He pulls the older man to his feet, supporting almost all of his weight. The area around his eyes is tight with the strain, and Dick feels terrible that he’s putting Damian through this, but he can’t do anything about it. It’s done, it’s over, and he can barely control his own limbs.

They stop in a room off to the side to retrieve the missing parts of his suit and Damian helps him put them back on before they continue towards the exit.

When they reach the roof, Dick wants to gasp in relief. The air below had been thick and humid, and Damian firebending had not helped in the slightest. It’s drizzling lightly outside, as per Gotham’s usual, but it’s still much better than inside.

The boy stops at the edge of the roof and helps Dick sit down, before crouching in front of him. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and Dick is content with pressing a hand to his ribs and catching his breath.

Then, the look on Damian’s face changes completely, from contemplative to determined in a split second.

“Do you trust me?” he asks quietly, his voice flat, barely betraying the fact that he’s unsure, but Dick can tell.

“Of course I do,” Dick replies, confused. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Damian shakes his head, pulls off his gloves, and holds out his hand. “Give me your hand.”

After a moment, he does. He winces when Damian’s fingers brush the edge of the burns, but then he’s too entranced to pay attention to the pain.

Damian reaches up and twists his fingers, and _pulls_ the falling water from the air. It clings to his hand, and he lets go of Dick’s hand, gesturing for him to keep it there. Dick does and watches as his little brother transfers the water to the other hand and back until both are covered in the shimmering water.

Then, he reaches forward and hovers his hands above Dick’s wrist. He gasps, expecting pain, but gets nothing of the sort. In fact, it feels _amazing_. He watches as his burns, one by one, are healed.

When he’s done, Damian shakes his hands dry of the water and pulls his gloves back on. He leans back on his haunches and stares down at his hands.

Dick is too busy staring, mouth open, at his hands to acknowledge him. After a good few moments, he looks up at Damian. The boy won’t meet his eyes, and before he can say anything, he’s climbing to his feet, holding his hand out to pull Dick up.

He doesn’t take his hand, and that must be the wrong move because Damian’s face crumbles. It’s just a twitch, but for Damian, that’s a landslide. The boy turns and heads back towards where they parked the Batmobile, and Dick follows silently, too dumbfounded to find the right words to say.

The ride is silent, Dick’s mind working a mile a minute as he tries to comprehend what he’s just seen. His brain supplies endless excuses, but none of them explain how Damian was able to heal his wounds. Damian is supposed to be a firebender, not a waterbender. Only waterbenders know how to heal others using just water alone.

Dick knows what this is, but he doesn’t want to say it because this is his little brother. His Dami, his Robin.

The second the Batmobile pulls far enough into the cave, Damian is jumping out, not even bothering to stop to greet Alfred on his way. He continues towards the locker room, his back rigid and his footsteps nearing a jog.

“Is Master Damian alright?” Alfred asks, his brow furrowed in concern.

Dick sighs, pulling the cowl back. “He will be. I’ve got it covered.”

“Very well.”

He feels bad for blowing Alfred off, but this is important. Very important.

When he reaches the locker room, he doesn’t hear anything at all. It’s silent, but then there’s a sniffle, and his heart lurches. There’s no other sound until the clanking of Damian’s boots on metal and the sound of zippers opening.

“Damian?” he calls out, approaching the boy. Damian’s movements become frantic, apparently trying to rip off his suit as fast as possible and get the hell out of there. “Damian, stop.”

“Leave me alone,” the firebender huffs, finally getting the top half of his suit off.

Dick watches him struggle for a second, before grabbing the t-shirt sitting on the bench and handing it to him. Damian tugs it on almost viciously, swapping his armored leggings for sweatpants.

“You’re the Avatar, aren’t you?” Dick asks, his voice gentle and quiet.

Damian’s eyes flare. “What kind of garbage are you spouting now, Grayson?” But his voice is strained and his shoulders are stiff.

Dick sits down beside him, a little below eye level with the kid still standing. 

“What’s so bad about being the Avatar?” he asks, stretching his legs out in front of him and crossing his arms. “I think the Avatar is pretty cool, but that’s just me.”

The boy stares at the locker in front of him, before breaking with a snarl.

“What’s so bad? The Avatar is killed every time they resurface. I was born to _die_ , Grayson, and you are a fool if you think anything else,” Damian says, his eyes burning and his fists clenched. Dick would think that he’s only being dramatic if this were any other situation, but he knows he’s not. It’s true.

He reaches forward and rests his hand on Damian’s shoulder, ducking his head to meet his eyes.

“I know that. But if you think I’ll let anybody hurt you, then I must be failing at my big brother duties,” he says, the corner of his lip quirking in a tiny smile. “It’s my job to protect you, kiddo, what makes you think I’d do anything less right now?”

Damian looks confused. “But I’m… the Avatar.”

“I’m aware,” Dick says, shrugging. “Which means you’re the coolest little brother in the world.”

Now he’s toeing the line between confused and exasperated.

“I am the _Avatar_ , Grayson. I’m dangerous,” Damian says, looking at the older man like he’s got three heads.

Dick shakes his head. “You’re Robin, of course you’re dangerous. But you’re still you, and I love you. You being the Avatar doesn’t change that.”

Damian doesn’t say anything and eventually sits down beside him on the bench.

“You’re sure?” he asks, his arm brushing against Dick’s. Dick doesn’t waste a second in wrapping his arm around the boy’s shoulders.

“Definitely.”

A moment’s hesitation, and then, “could you teach me to airbend?”

Dick’s eyes widen, and his grip tightens. It had never occurred to him before that that would be a possibility.

“Of course I will, I’d be honored,” he says, trying to swallow down the emotion climbing up his throat.

He’d always thought he’d be the last airbender he’d ever know. The only others he’d ever known were his parents, and they certainly weren't coming back. 

Maybe the art didn’t have to die with his parents, maybe he could pass it down to his baby brother.

Dick likes the sound of that.

-

**Author's Note:**

> i didn't think anybody would be interested in this concept, but here i am with this and several other ideas to continue this. oh well, i didn't need to attend to my real life responsibilities anyway.


End file.
